Beloved Enemy
by Rissell C
Summary: All her life she'd been after the one man who she should have hated. When Winry finds out who killed her parents, what does she do? A RoyWinry oneshot.


**Title**: Beloved Enemy  
**Author**: Rissell C  
**Rating**: T  
**Genre**: Angst/Romance  
**Spoilers**: Episode 36 spoilers!  
**Pairing**: Roy/Winry  
**Warnings**: It's a T rated one-shot. Be serious.  
**Notes**: Oooh! I'm nothing but a no good one-shot writer, goodness. I can't do a mutiple chapter story to save my life.  
**Count**: 1,430 Gasp!

I don't know where to begin.

Our story is a short one, probably not even worth telling, but it was wonderful while it lasted.

I remember the first time I'd seen him, back when Al had come to my doorstep all but soulless and his brother in his arms. As a young girl, I'd been more scared than I'd ever been. I cleaned him off, all the while my hands shook with terror. I thought he might die. Granny wouldn't comfort me and I couldn't ask Al to. I suppose I was being selfish, but I was just a kid.

It wasn't until I'd heard a loud, startling knock on the front door that I'd looked away from Edward. And that was the last I'd looked at him all night.

That was the day he walked into my life, twisting my heart in all sorts of directions, driving it to the point of bursting.

It seems so silly now because, out of the whole few minutes he'd been inside, he hadn't laid eyes on me once. I watched him speak but I didn't listen to him. I wonder if he didn't notice a certain young girl's eyes on him. The next few months were spent remembering how deep his voice sounded and how unruly his hair was. I think, once or twice, I'd asked Ed if he was really going to go look for him (even though he'd made it quite clear he would) just to get him talking about the man.

After Ed and Al left, I forgot about the man. I was more worried about the Elrics than anything. It wasn't until Edward wrote to me during the first few days of his becoming a state alchemist that I remembered a certain Roy Mustang. When my eyes passed over the name my heart did one of those butterfly thumps that make you hold your breath and smile. I read it over and over again, trying to get that same reaction, but it's one of those come and go things; it happens when you least expect it.

When I'd visit the brothers, I would make sure that some how I'd see Roy. I wasn't open about it, I wouldn't tell Ed or Al because goodness knows how they'd look at me afterwards. The man was clearly a decade plus older than me. Talk about older men. I couldn't help myself. He was just so attractive in more ways than I could count. But, out of all the times I'd spent in his presence, all the times I'd try to catch his gaze, he wouldn't comply. It was frustrating. It was rare that he'd ever look at me, let alone look me in the eyes.

The day I found out his reason, probably his only basis for never being able to see me, was the day I realized _my _drive. It was then that I realized why I followed him around and why I wanted him. I could see the guilt written all over his face when I thought about it. He was a coward. He knew if his eyes met mine I would find out immediately.

That day, he became my enemy.

From then on I plotted against him. I wanted to make him feel the pain of losing something so dear. I was going to play dirty. I didn't care if it was wrong. I didn't care that he'd probably spent all his life since dreading the day he'd meet the girl whose parents he annihilated. He took the only people that mattered away from me. I was going to make his life miserable. Equivalent Exchange, right?

I made sure he saw me. If I saw him in the street, I'd bolt down the stairs and out the door and casually walk by him. If he saw me, great. I'd give him a dirty look. He'd look away, probably contemplating how one goes about jumping off a cliff. And I wouldn't care.

I did care, though. It was sick and twisted. I would cry myself to sleep most nights because, by the end of the day, the guilt would get to me. What would my parents think? What kind of terrible person was I?

By chance, I'd been sent to Central HQ to fetch Riza by request of Gracia. I knew where the First Lieutenant would be immediately. During my time with Ed, I'd been there plenty. Third floor, east wing. Room 310. I marched up the stairs looking at my feet as my heels made a high 'click click'. As I got closer to my destination, I started to walk on my toes. The constant _click click _was nerve wracking.

I lifted my fist to the door and thought for a moment if I should beat it senseless and scare the Colonel. I shook my head because I was being childish; he probably wasn't even in there. Probably drinking himself to death out of guilt. _That was much better. _

My eyes went wide and I held my breath.

I let my arm drop to my side and gently pressed my ear to the door. I heard chocked gasps and muffled cries. It could have been anyone; I wished it was anyone else. But I knew that deep voice all too well. I covered my mouth because I thought he might hear my own strangled cry. I hoped to heaven it wasn't the man I knew it was. I hoped hard that when I opened the door, I wouldn't find the man I called enemy sobbing.

When I turned the doorknob, holding my right hand to my chest, he looked at me with those lost, sunken eyes, reddened from weeping. I knew his pain was my fault when he looked me in the eyes. After all those years, I'd finally gotten what I wanted. I should have felt pretty damn happy because there he was, looking me dead in the eyes. I should have smiled at him and laughed because wasn't that what I wanted? Revenge?

But I didn't do any of that.

I released the doorknob I'd been clinging to and ran to him. I ran behind his desk and picked him up to eye-level by his waist. And I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him harder than I'd done anyone. I could feel that he was weak because his trembling was becoming worse and worse. His arms were limp at his sides as I continued to embrace him. It wasn't until I picked up his arms and wrapped them around me that he returned my embrace with vigor. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and let him cry. His whole body shook against mine, and I let it.

Here I was, reminded of what I was doing to him. I was holding him because _I _felt guilty for the first time. It was all I could do to atone for my cruel actions. I was trying to buy his forgiveness and he wasn't making it easy. I frowned into his chest and let tears of my own fall. _Please, forgive me._ I was crying because I was mad. His trembling was making me feel terrible. I let go of his neck and grabbed his face.

I was glad I had his attention. I knew he wasn't going to look away; I had a firm grip that locked his eyes with mine and I wasn't letting go. I continued to frown out of anger because I wasn't getting anything. He was still giving me that same look and nothing I was doing was changing it. And so, out of anger and confusion, I pressed my lips against his.

I remember how his lips tasted then; like hard liquor and strawberries. My heart did another one of those butterfly thumps, like it had done all the other times I was near him, only this time it would happen again and again to the movement of our lips. It was familiar, yet foreign; strange, yet beautiful. Here was the man named 'enemy' but also the man in my arms, caressing my lips with his sweet tasting tongue.

I never had to say I forgave him, and he never had to say he forgave me. Our sweet apologies were expressed in our loving touches and enforced with our plump lips. To every soft caress on our exposed skin, our bodies erupted in 'thank-yous' and 'your welcomes'.

The only person I'd had to apologize to was Gracia; I didn't get Riza until much later.


End file.
